Pretty Girl, Ugly World
by SweetLouise
Summary: A one-shot on Heidi's life as a fashion model. Contains some language and mentions of drugs and implied eating disorders.


Pretty Girl, Ugly World

She walks – she doesn't have a car. That's how Heidi finds herself outside the agency at dawn. In her arms is a portfolio, and over her shoulder is slung a tote bag. She's starving hungry but the girls at her flat preach starvation as the only route to supermodel success. Ice coats the streets and she shivers because she has no jacket. _Being cold burns calories. _Where is she picking this crap up from?

There's a corkboard in her quarter of the room, emblazoned with models and quotes. Every morning when she crawls from under her thin sheets, her gaze is fixated on that board for a good five minutes until the bathroom's free. Of course, all the hot water's still there because the girls always use the cold – "It burns calories!" – but somehow she forces the freezing water over her body and tells herself it's good for her wake-up system.

Then the phone rings and someone nabs it. She hears the disappointment when one of the girls – Kyra? – finds out that the caller is no, not the agency, but the parents checking to see that their daughter is eating properly, everything's all well and good, and they'll see her at Christmas, right? There's a million abandoned calls on that phone and _they're yours, Heidi Fisher, _is the sentence that runs through her fucked up head when she hears her parents' concerned voice_._

At breakfast – _what breakfast? No one's eating _– everyone is silent and moody. Heidi sips a diet coke through a straw because, "Coke stains your teeth, darling," and she can't afford a cheap teeth whitener from the pharmacy, let alone go to a proper dentist's. The kitchen's dank and smells like smoke from the fags they live on. Someone drags on one deeply, then blows smoke out again. Heidi's a mannequin in her model 'uniform' – white vest, jeans and black heels. Another girl, give or take her.

She leaves the house. When she gets back she'll find the girls passed out on the junkyard couch – stoned or starved, who cares? – and probably their thug boyfriends mincing around and smoking pot, or at least, something vaguely illegal. Then the police will get involved and she'll swear that they're innocent and they've got it all wrong, and somehow they'll believe her crap excuses. She hunches over as she stomps in the snow, skinny arms crossed over her too-big-for-modeling bust.

Now she's back in the present – outside the agency, stuck in hell. She drags on a cigarette, gazing up at the shiny silver sign like it's a beacon of hope from God himself. God – she stopped believing a long time ago. She worshipped Kate Moss and her minions instead. Maybe her life is proof that she's a traitor and as a result she's an unsuccessful wannabe model?

There's still a simmering hope in her heart, but it's cooling off like an abandoned hot chocolate on the top of a counter. _You're too fat _are the words that echo through her head, the poisonous words of the catty girls back at the flat. When she's too high and flighty, they're always there to drag her back down with their manicured nails. Because it's all embedded in their minds that no one needs success like they do, and how does she deserve it because I'm skinny and she's too bloody fat?

She pushes her way through the shiny glass doors, and there's a cleaner there. She wrinkles her pretty little nose, and then remembers that this insignificant person probably earns more money than her, lives in a nicer house than her, hell, she might even be married. And she looks happy. More than Heidi can say for herself! So she abandons her uncouth thoughts and runs a brush through her snow-ridden hair. That's when the cleaner speaks.

"You're another model, then," she says, smiling. "You're the prettiest I've seen yet."

Heidi shines for the briefest moment. "Thanks," she says, before her light inevitably dulls.

"You're one of the luckiest girls in the world," the cleaner tells her, before picking up her bucket and mop and leaving the room, leaving Heidi staring at the wet floor sign.

She is the luckiest girl in the world.

And she'll say it until she believes it again.

…

**I started this ages ago and never finished it until now. It's a short one-shot, but I hope you enjoyed it. Please review! :)**


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